And One For All
by BadMoonlight
Summary: What if the Lucky Seven had never been born? Who, if anyone, would take their places? This is my story. (An AU 'It' fic.)


  
..And One For All  
by BadMoonlight  
  
  
(Okay, here I go again! I decided, this time, to write an entirely different type of 'IT'   
fic. Here's the scenario: What if all seven losers and Henry Bowers had never been  
born? Who would take their places, if anyone did, to fight It? What would they be   
like? Would they all get along? Would they succeed? Here's my story.)  
  
  
  
  
iJune, 1958/i  
  
  
Victor Criss sighed as he sat down outside the local drugstore and lit up a   
  
cigarette. He hated living in the too small town of Derry; There was nothing to do,   
  
nowhere to go, absolutely nothing to see, no one to hang out with... iOf course,/i   
  
he admitted grudgingly to himself, iThere's always Belch and Patrick.. Great   
  
choices./i  
  
  
"Belch" Huggins and Patrick Hockstetter were the only other boys in town who   
  
were around the same 'clique' factor as Victor. All three were considered punks.   
  
Whenever something would be stolen or vandalized, you could be sure it was one of  
  
them who did it.. Or, at least, be sure on whom the blame was placed.  
  
  
He moaned quietly as Mr. Keene, the owner of the little drugstore, appeared to   
  
be making his way over to him from behind the spotless glass doors. iProbably to   
  
tell me to get lost, no doubt,/i Victor thought dryly. iWell, I won't give him the   
  
chance!/i  
  
  
With that, the tall boy stood up from the crumbling cement steps and was off,   
  
shoving his hands into the pockets of his black leather jacket. Andrew Keene was just   
  
approaching the entrance of his store as he did so, trembling slightly as he held a  
  
glass bottle of Coca-Cola in his hands.  
  
  
"I wonder if he knows he forgot his pop?"  
  
  
  
  
  
"Jacob!" The shrill voice echoed down the driveway. Of course, he couldn't  
  
hear her anyway, but Cecelia Thomas wasn't thinking straight. She picked up her   
  
blue and white checkered apron by the hem, and frantically rushed into the driveway.  
  
  
Sitting only a few feet away, crouched down on the pavement, was a little   
  
boy, around eleven, playing with some insects using a magnifying glass. But, unlike   
  
most boys his age, he wasn't trying to hurt them. A sad little smile crossed his lips as   
  
he studied them seriously.  
  
  
Cecelia sighed impatiently, then tapped the boy on the shoulder. He turned to   
  
face her, surprised, and she nearly exploded. "There you are! I've been looking all   
  
over creation for you--" Then, embarassed, realized her mistake and hurriedly began   
  
to sign it for him.  
  
  
Jake grinned slightly as he signed back to his mother, then motioned with one   
  
arm over to the bugs. She nodded comprehension, and promptly kneeled next to him.  
  
  
"Jacob," she started, "Why don't you go along and play baseball with Kyle?"  
  
  
He paused after reading her lips, then shrugged, and signed, 'Maybe later'.  
  
  
Cecelia shook her head as she stood up, and went inside the house. Joseph   
  
Thomas was resting on a recliner, reading the daily newspaper. Then she went back  
  
to watching her son out the kitchen window.  
  
  
  
  
  
"June 1, 1956. Nothing has happened so far this summer. I'm babysitting   
  
right now while my parents went to see a picture at the Aladdin, and there's really no   
  
one to--"  
  
  
Ellie stopped writing in the journal a moment, then started chewing on the   
  
eraser of her pencil. She moaned as Sam, her little brother, burst into her room.   
  
"Don't you know how to knock?" she complained.  
  
  
"Nope!" Sam answered cheerfully, a big smile on his face. He energetically   
  
bounced over until he reached the bed, then hopped on top of it. Ellie glared.  
  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
  
"What do you want?" Sam repeated, still grinning, then wrapped his arms   
  
around his legs and started to rock back and forth.  
  
  
"Get out of here, now," she told him firmly.  
  
  
"Get out of here, now," Sam mimicked, smiling broadly.  
  
  
"Now!" Ellie shrieked.  
  
  
"Now!" he shrieked back, then began laughing.  
  
  
"Sam Geiger is a stupid jerk!"  
  
  
Sam stopped rocking and stared at her.  
  
  
"Yeah, that's what I thought. So get out, now!" Ellie retorted, her violet eyes   
  
narrowing menacingly.  
  
  
The five-year-old stuck his tongue out at his elder sister, then walked out of   
  
her room. She sighed, rubbing her temples with her hands, then turned to look into   
  
the mirror on her vanity table across the room. She wasn't a bad looking girl, actually   
  
quite pretty, with her creamy white skin and brunette, pincurled perm. But she was   
  
very quiet in school, and the only time she really opened up was to yell at Sam when   
  
he got on her nerves, which was quite often.  
  
  
She was the top student in her class, yes, but she wasn't fond of being   
  
referred to as 'Brain', or 'Little Miss Perfect'. Nobody really talked to her, unless asking   
  
for the answers to a homework assignment. She'd tell them in a small voice, trying to   
  
smile, but it really hurt her badly inside.  
  
  
Ellie sighed once again, then continued to write in her journal.  
  
  
  
  
  
"Ow! Goddamn it!" Kyle Winkler exclaimed, immediately sticking his injured   
  
thumb into his mouth.  
  
  
Ralph stuck his head out the screen door and beamed. "Aww, did the little   
  
baby hurt himself?" he taunted, eyes glinting merrily.  
  
  
Kyle's reply was making a rather obscene gesture with his good hand. Ralph   
  
rolled his eyes. "Nice comeback," he commented sarcastically.  
  
  
"Go piss up a rope."  
  
  
Ralph smirked at him and dissapeared back into the house. Kyle pulled his   
  
thumb out of his mouth, stared at it, then sighed. He then frowned and turned back   
  
to the bicycle wheel he was trying to fix. "Great," he mumbled. "This blows."  
  
  
At this point, Ralph paraded outside again, holding something behind his back.   
  
"Oh, cousin!" he called out, "I've got something to show you!"  
  
  
Kyle briefly closed his eyes and groaned. "What now?"  
  
  
Ralph produced a slingshot from behind him and pulled back the rubber band,   
  
grinning at him. Kyle made no move to run. "Whatsa matter, too afraid to scram?"  
  
  
"No," he replied. He calmly reached behind the bike, then brandished his own   
  
slingshot. "Do you really need me to answer that question now?"  
  
  
Ralph's smug look faded slightly as he retreated back into the house. Kyle   
  
shook his head, giggling a little, as he watched this, then focused his energies back   
  
on repairing his bike.   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
He tucked the football neatly under his left arm, and started toward the front   
  
door of the house.  
  
  
"Hey, Casey!" Pete yelled after him, "Where you going?"  
  
  
"I need to sit down for a while," he replied firmly. "I'm getting a headache from   
  
all this running around."  
  
  
The older boy rolled his eyes and sighed. "You're never going to be the star  
  
quarterback if you don't practice, Chief."  
  
  
This infuriated Casey to no end. "It's isummer!/i" he shouted in   
  
exasperation. "Give me a break!"  
  
  
Pete shook his head and followed his little brother into the house, then   
  
separated ways to go to his own bedroom. Casey walked up the stairway, then finally   
  
reached his room. He stood in the doorframe a moment, then closed the door, and   
  
flopped down onto his bed tiredly.  
  
  
He ran his fingers through his neat, dark brown hair, not caring at the moment   
  
if he messed up his careful side part. He gingerly reached up to his face with one  
  
hand, then removed his horn-rimmed glasses and set them on his nightstand.  
  
  
Casey's older brother, Albert, was a freshman in college, while Pete was going   
  
into his sophomore year in high school. Casey himself was merely starting middle   
  
school, and going to be a lowly sixth-grader. Thus, being the youngest, he had to put   
  
up with all the pressures to live up to his parents' expectations that he would be a   
  
miniature cloned copy of his brothers.  
  
  
Albert was always very intelligent, graduating as valedictorian his senior year.  
  
Pete was the athletic one, excelling at basketball, baseball, and football all through  
  
middle school and his freshman year of high school. Casey was expected to not only   
  
be on the high honor roll every six weeks, but to somehow be the star quarterback   
  
AND captain of the sixth-grade football team. He hated it all.  
  
  
Of course, he was also very athletic to begin with, being the tallest boy in his   
  
grade. He frowned at the picture of Pete he had on the back of his door, then began   
  
to throw some darts at the target he drew on it.  
  
  
  
  
  
(Well, how's this so far? Is anybody interested at ALL on how these five different kids  
get along with each other, first meet up, and respond to IT? PLEEEASE review so I   
can use your feedback for upcoming chapters! I already have a slight outline of it in  
my mind, but I'm always open to suggestions! How do you think the characters should   
interact, etc?)  



End file.
